


To Be Shakespeare's Muse

by newsiesgirllaces



Category: SHAKESPEARE William - Works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-25 09:51:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4955740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newsiesgirllaces/pseuds/newsiesgirllaces
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The year is 1997 and Will has awful writers block and NEEDS his muse to help. This piece is based off of Sonnet 78.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Be Shakespeare's Muse

Sonnet 78  
So oft have I invok'd thee for my Muse,  
And found such fair assistance in my verse,  
As every alien pen hath got my use,  
And under thee their poesy disperse.  
Thine eyes, that taught the dumb on high to sing,  
And heavy ignorance aloft to fly,  
Have added feathers to the learned's wing,  
And given grace a double majesty.  
Yet be most proud of that which I compile,  
Whose influence is thine and born of thee:  
In others' works thou dost but mend the style,  
And arts with thy sweet graces graced be;  
But thou art all my art and dost advance  
As high as learning my rude ignorance.

~*~*~*~

I am a muse, plain and simple. I’m not just a person who inspires, but I am inspiration in human form. It’s a very important job and you have me to thank for all your favorite t.v. shows. Well… at least some of them. There are a lot of us muses, but I like to think I’m one of the best. I did help that one guy write Beowulf. Who doesn’t love Beowulf?   
So I seek out mortals with their short life span trying to become immortal through writing. It is a rewarding process when they succeed. 

However, they can be very difficult sometimes. 

The mortal year was 1997 and I had come into contact with a man who just seemed to have this spark in him, a man who I just knew would be someone who would be immortalized through his writing.

His name was William Shakespeare but he preferred to be called Will. The only time I called him William was when I was angry with him, and unfortunately that was quite often. 

Yes, he was brilliant but he could, from time to time, be an ass. 

Example; he would think that I was a muse solely for him. Sure, he was smart but there were others who also needed my help. Of course, he wasn’t exactly thrilled with me for that. 

“Cleo, I’m dying.” Will laid in his bed, long hair falling over his face as he held some loose leaf paper in his hands. 

“Can’t you think of anything original?” I said as I slumped against the wall of his disheveled apartment. He had called on me because he was having trouble, and though I do enjoy helping, he seemed to need help with everything. I had been inspiring a guy named Ben Jonson when he called me so I had to make my meeting with the other man short. 

“Of course I can! However I just need inspiration.” 

“Well, you’re not my only client.”

“Lemme guess, you’ve been inspiring that bastard Ben Jonson again, am I right? I bet you give all your best ideas to him. Oh, why do you hate me? You must know that he could write without your inspiration and that I am the one who truly needs you.”

“If I hated you, I wouldn’t be here.” It was hard to get the sentence out without gritting my teeth. 

“I bet you say that to all the poor free-lance writers.”

“William, I am not kidding. Don’t get all butt hurt just because I inspire other people.” Will turned onto his stomach on the bed and whaled. 

“Lost! I am but a lost man who will never find his way in this world because his one true muse shows absolutely no affection towards him.” 

“You are such a drama queen.” My statement seem to make him jump from his spot on the bed and he gave me a level look. 

“No, I want to be the King of Drama, which you need to help turn me into.”

“You’re lucky I see potential in you.” I huffed then pulled out his desk chair to sit parallel to him. “Alright, so what do you have on the page   
so far?” Will shuffled his papers, his eyebrows drawing together and his tongue flicked out to lick at his thin lips.

“There is a boy who is in love but his girlfriend dumps him so he’s depressed but then he sees a different girl and falls in love with her.”   
I stared at the mortal man, waiting for more. However, all he did was look up at me from his papers with a simple look on his face.

“And?” I questioned, waving my hand onward for him to continue, but he shook his head.

“That’s it.”

“That’s it?”

“Yes.”

“That’s seriously all you have for me?”

“Yes.” 

I gritted my teeth, each word coming out becoming more difficult.

“You seriously don’t have the capacity to write anything else?” It was clear that Will had heard my frustration in my voice and thus got all dramatic on me. 

“Well I’m sorry. I owed Chris Marlow a favor so I gave him all my weed. It’s hard to be creative without weed.” 

“William, you can’t rely on weed to be your source of creativity.”

“Well that’s why I have you, right?” 

I had to run my hands through my hair so they wouldn’t wrap around his throat. Sometimes I think when he says things about having me to help, he means them to be a complement. But I’m just supposed to inspire. I’m not supposed to hold his hand through the entire process. 

“Alright…” I let out a long breath, trying to calm down. “So. Do you have names for your characters yet?”

“I got some ideas.” 

“And they are?”

“Well… I want this main guy to be named Romeo. It’s like rome but with a cool ‘o’ at the end that just makes it sound so catchy.”

“Okay, so Romeo. What about the first girlfriend.”

“Rosaline.”

I really shouldn’t have been surprised that he named that character after his psycho ex-girlfriend. 

“And the new girl?”

“Ramona.”

“What’s with you and the R’s?”

“What do you mean?”

“Romeo, Rosaline, Ramona… you can’t just use R names for the show, you’ll confuse people.”

“Fine, then what should I name the new girl?” 

“Look out the window.” I sighed heavily and he did as I said. I knew there was something to see out there. It was just my gift. 

Will swiftly turned around with a glimmer in his eye.

“Juliet! The drug dealer down the street!” 

“Atta boy.” I couldn’t help but smile as I watched him scribble furiously onto the loose leaf paper, his eyes sharp and full of excitement. 

“Well, if you’re good for now, I’m going to head out.”

“Please, don’t go. Without you… without you I can’t write. Without you I’m nothing.”

“Will-”

“Please. When you are around I can write like one of the greats but the moment you’re gone, I’m just a stupid stoner.” His eyes were big and pleading and I just couldn’t say no. with a small sigh, I sat down onto his bean bag chair. 

“Alright, I’ll stay.” 

We worked on his story throughout the night and with several suggestions, his hands were scribbling onto the paper at a mile a minute. 

Every so often I watched him shake out his hand as it cramped but then he went back to writing. He wrote passionately, furiously, and relentlessly and it was satisfying to watch. 

It was moments like those that I remembered why I wanted to be his muse in the first place. The guy had a gift.   
Granted, I could have done without the multiple penis jokes he made, but he was gifted all the same. 

“Finished the rough draft.” There was a tired smile playing at his lips and I ruffled his greasy hair. 

“It only took you eighteen hours nonstop. Now, go get some food, shower, and head to bed.”

“But-”

“Don’t argue with me, Will. I know best. You need to rest and sleep. While you’re at it I’m going back to help Ben.”

“Why do you have to help that guy?” Will’s voice was tired and whiny. 

“Because he is also talented, but don’t worry. I’ll be your muse as long as I can.” Despite how much the man drove me crazy, what I said was a promise. Who knew, if I was lucky, I was looking at my next success of a mortal man being immortalized through words.


End file.
